


One Night In Austin

by Sunshine_Magnet



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Austin - Freeform, Daddy Issues, F/M, Ride a band boy., Ride a bull?, Save a Horse, Trophy Room, Urban Cowboy, beer pong, panty droppers, we love paul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 07:50:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2500229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshine_Magnet/pseuds/Sunshine_Magnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three friends meet up for a weekend in Austin. They find a bull, some men, and a bucking good time!</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night In Austin

**Author's Note:**

> Many, MANY thanks to the ladies who caught Harry & Niall's bull rides on video. This fic might not exist without you.

**5:00 pm**

Natalie taps a perfectly manicured fingernail on the granite countertop in the lobby of The Driskill Hotel, waiting for the clerk to give her the keys to her suite. Her cell phone buzzes in her hand.

**Group Message**   
**Dylan: Just landed! Alex, where are you?**

**Alex: Pulling up outside. Curbside service!**

She smiles and takes her luggage up to the room, kicking off her shoes for a minute before the crazy starts. Lord knows it’s a rare weekend when air traffic cooperates and traffic is light, but it’s all working in her favor, giving her a blissful 20 minutes or so to just chill.

Because the second Dylan and Alex walk in, Natalie _knows_ chaos will ensue.

It’s not often they have a girls weekend, and this one in Austin has been planned for months. A weekend of good food, great music and an awesome culture sounded perfect, and Natalie hopes that it is.

**Group Message**   
**Natalie: We have the Cattle Baron’s Suite. Right off the Mezzanine. May want to pick up some cowboy hats for tonight or something….**

She laughs. The Driskill is an amazing hotel, known for its heritage and history in the city of Austin. Natalie also knows it is rumored to be haunted. The Cattle Baron suite is over the top and probably way too stuffy for the girls, but it has one of the best addresses for what the girls are planning on doing - getting drunk and having a good time on 6th Street.

**Alex: You’re kidding, right?**

**Natalie: I wish I was....**

Hearing loud familiar voices floating down the hall, she throws the door open and squeals, grabbing hands, bags, whatever she can get her hands on, pulling them into the room so proper hugs can be given. It’s been _too long_ , and _God_ , she’s missed them. 

"Beer. I need beer. That was a hell of a drive," Alex groans dramatically, dropping her duffle bag in the foyer of the suite. "Holy shit, you weren't kidding about the Cattle Baron." Natalie tosses Alex a beer from her spot at the wet bar. “I feel like the theme song to Dallas should be playing on a loop or something.”

“Or something,” Dylan snorts, flopping down on the too-ornate couch. “Dude. Are we at your grandma’s house?” She tosses a ruffled pillow at Natalie, who turns too slow and takes it in the hip.

“Shut up. This place is practically Texas royalty. I had points,” Natalie shrugs, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Now, are you bitches done complaining? Because I’m ready to start drinking.”

Alex plugs her iPod in and cranks up the tunes - some obscure band Natalie’s never heard of, but it doesn’t matter. They all wiggle and dance around the suite, anyway. Cold beers are cracked open and gulped down while the first hour is spent giggling and catching up. It doesn’t take long before it looks like a small beauty-clad bomb has exploded; accessories strewn about the suite while flat irons and curling irons are plugged into the outlets in the bathroom. Nat changes clothes at least three times while her friends laugh at her, teasing her for her slight obsession with her appearance. Gossip about mutual acquaintances, pictures from travels taken with friends and family, and a couple of shots of Fireball in their system mean the girls are finally ready to hit the town.

 

**7:00 pm**

“I hate these shoes,” Natalie curses as she wobbles a bit, her stiletto caught in a cobblestone. 

“I don’t know why you bothered,” Dylan laughs, showing off her wedge-heeled boots. “It’s not like we’re going to be anywhere you can end up barefoot tonight.” Dylan fidgets with some fringe on her top before they cross Brazos Street. She turns, catching a glimpse of her friends and smiles. They are as different from each other as can be. Tall and blonde, tall and brunette and short and brunette. Stilettos, wedge boots and Converse. Little black dress, shorts and jeans. The best part about Austin is that no one blinks an eye at the ladies; the college town is notorious for being "weird" and having an interesting culture. 

The ladies skip across the street, Alex leading the way. Even though it isn’t her style at all, she pulls the trio into Eddie V’s. “Seriously, it’s stuffy, but the food is so good, your mouth will have an orgasm.”

Within minutes, the girls are seated at the bar, flirting with the bartender (and maybe a few of the patrons, too). Dylan admires the bartender as he mixes a drink, his biceps on display when he raises the metal shaker in the air. He pours the concoction into three short glasses, topping each of them with whipped cream.

Dylan’s eyes widen a bit. She knows what shots with whipped cream on top are called and furthermore, how they are taken; she’s been to bachelorette parties before. She looks around, Nat and Alex lost in conversation and giggles, before settling back on the man in front of them.

“Ladies, from the gentleman at the table over there,” he gestures with a nod, placing the shots in front of them.

“Blow jobs?” Natalie’s eyes about pop out of her head.

The bartender winks at her. "They're actually called Panty Droppers," he says with a chuckle.

Natalie spins around on her stool, bitchbrow cocked. She hears Dylan ask specifically who sent them, but she doesn't hear the answer.

She knows it has to be the good-looking blond man sitting near the corner. He gives a little wave and Natalie turns back around.

"Part of me wants to go pour this on him and the other part wants to lick it off. Did you see him," she whispers furiously to her friends. She takes a moment to center herself while Dylan giggles.

"You haven't even had it yet and it looks like it's about to live up to its name," Dylan chuckles. “He’s cute, for an older guy,” she agrees easily.

“Nat, you better take it and say thank you,” Alex says, hiding her chuckles. “Take mine too, while you’re at it. Too sweet for me.” She passes her shot glass down the bar in front of Natalie, but not before she dips her finger in the whipped cream and wipes the glob of it on her friend’s nose. 

“Oh my _God_ ,” Dylan cackles. “Alex,” she scolds as Natalie swipes the cream off her nose. _“Natalie.”_ Natalie winks as she takes her finger into her mouth, sucking the tip in with a little smirk on her face. “You’re such a tease, holy shit.” Dylan’s blushing at Natalie; she can only imagine what her suitor is thinking.

“Both of you, shut up,” Natalie says in a low voice, her eyes not leaving the blond gentleman in the corner. She knows he's been watching, his blue eyes have turned dark and his cheeks are a bit pink, if she's being honest. “I’ll be right back.” She picks up two of the shots and walks over to the table in the back corner. 

Natalie makes sure to keep her eye on the gentleman, and feels herself warm a bit when he scoots back in his chair. Dark denim that fits _oh so right_ stretches across his thighs; a crew neck sweater is pushed up his forearms. His eyes twinkle, his dimple flashes and she's lost. He stands when she nears. “Hi. I'm Bobby.”

Natalie detects an accent and reminds herself to stay calm. "Hello Bobby, I'm Natalie." She mentally chastises herself for practically purring. "You know you're gonna have to do more than buy me a drink to see my panties drop." She hands him one of the shot glasses in challenge. "Tit for tat."

He laughs and the sound nearly brings her to her knees. "Touché, Natalie," he takes the glass and eyes it suspiciously. "I just told the guy to make a drink, not a pink thing with this shit on top." He sticks his finger in the whipped cream and spoons it out of the tiny glass.

Before it even registers, Natalie grabs his hand and licks his finger.

Dylan falls out of her chair and Alex applauds from her spot at the bar.

 

 

 

**9:00 pm**

 

Alex stares wide-eyed at the table in front of her. “You guys, did we really just eat all of this?”

If she didn't know better, she would've thought they ordered one of everything off the menu. As it stands, there are four large plates on their table. Calamari, oysters, pot stickers and crab cakes... and two bottles of wine. 

Dylan nods slowly, finally folding her linen napkin and placing it on the plate in front of her. “We did. I’m done. Does anyone have a safety pin?”

Nat looks at Dylan suspiciously. “Why?”

Dylan raises up her shirt just so her waistband is showing. “Just in case. These things feel a little tight,” she giggles, mussing with the button on her shorts. 

“Y’all are ridiculous,” Alex snorts, waving the waiter over and getting their bill.

“Oh no, ma’am,” the waiter blushes. “Your bill has been taken care of.”

The ladies look around the table at each other, confused. Alex straightens up in her chair some, motioning for the waiter to bend over some. “I know we aren’t that drunk. Are you really saying someone picked up our dinner bill?”

The waiter nods again. “Yes ma’am. A, um,” he stutters, looking inside his black folio. “Mr. Bobby Horan paid for your meal.”

Natalie chokes on her wine and Dylan tries to cover a laugh. Alex nods and accepts the waiter’s explanation, sending him away. “Bobby Horan, huh? Jesus, Natalie. And here I thought you just licked the guy’s finger.”

Natalie recovers quickly. “I swear to God, that’s all I did. I mean, I talked to him for a little bit. Found out he’s from Dublin, he was in town for the weekend to visit his son.” She shrugs. “No big deal.”

“No big deal? He was into you and hello, he arranged to buy our dinner,” Dylan says. “Did he give you his number or anything?”

She shakes her head. “No. Damn shame. He was cute,” she giggles. 

It's a wonder any of them can walk after they leave the restaurant. It's a good thing 6th Street is filled with plenty of other people who have had their fair share of alcohol on this Friday night.

 

**12:00 am**

When Dylan reaches into her crossbody bag outside of The Trophy Room to find her ID (which is cute, considering she's been well over the legal drinking age in the state for longer than she'd care to admit), she pulls out a fistfull of reciepts.

Chuggin' Monkey $37.00  
Maggie Mae's $14.00  
The Dizzy Rooster $22.00

She blinks a few times, shuffling through all of the crap in her hands until she finds her ID. The bouncer slaps a plastic bracelet on her hand, despite her protest that it doesn't match her outfit, and allows the ladies inside.

They head straight to the bar, giggling and chattering over the loud music. Another round of shots is downed, and they turn to take in the scene around them. Dylan’s eyes rove around the club, and she gasps when she spots _him_. Tall, young, lanky, maybe in his early 20s. It’s not long before they’ve made eye contact; his eyes raking over her body, sending a shiver through her, and a pool of liquid to her center. Dylan’s stuck staring at his hair. “Oh my God,” she whispers to herself, to no one, to her friends, whoever.

His hair is so pretty, all golden brown and shoulder length and tousled, with just enough curl to make it interesting. His green eyes glitter in the dim bar lights. She licks a drop of liquor off her lip, suddenly incredibly thirsty.

_And then_ , it’s like a spotlight is turned on, and she sees _it_. A mechanical bull. In her alcohol-addled state, she’s pretty sure it’s staring at her, challenging her. A scene from an old 80s movie comes to mind, and she turns to her friends reaching blindly for an arm. “You guys. Urban. Cowboy.” She points to the bull and turns to the bartender to find out who she needs to see about a ride. Nat and Alex are doubled over laughing, encouraging her, a loud chorus of “Dooo iiiit!” repeating in her head. 

She waltzes over to the man in charge, and smiles, sugary sweet. “Have you ever seen Urban Cowboy? I want a ride.” Her eyes flick over to the cutie. “Nice and slow.” She watches as said cutie bites his lip, as if he knows what she’s about to do. 

The man in charge gives her a salacious grin, “Ok, pretty lady, whatever you want.”

When her name is called, Dylan makes a big production of leaving her bag with Alex, strapping it over her friend’s shoulder and giving her a kiss on the cheek. Natalie hands her a shot and Dylan slams it, cringing when the heat of the tequila burns her throat. 

It’s the moment of truth. Dylan bounces gingerly on the inflated ground, reaching for the big, black bull. After a second’s worth of hesitation, she climbs on the bull rather gracefully, despite being three sheets to the wind. She settles her hips on the saddle, her hand wrapping tightly around the saddle’s horn. A low hum and a slow rock underneath her has her eyes widening. The _feel_. The bull is fashioned with actual bull-hide, the coarse hair tickling her thighs, the steel hard between her legs. Vibration. Rocking. It’s all she needs. Catching the cutie’s eyes, she proceeds to roll and grind her hips, moving with the bull, nearly giving herself an orgasm. His eyes never leave her, though they do roam, eyeing her breasts, her face, her lips, but mostly her hips. His hands move to cross in front of his crotch. She gives him a feline grin. 

Before she can process it, his face contorts in confusion, then glee, and suddenly, she’s not the only one on the bull. When the bull spins around, Dylan finds Alex still at the bar, doubled over, laughing even harder, if possible, and realizes the hands at her waist belong to Natalie. Dylan leans back, resting her head on Nat’s shoulder, and grins, “Hi! Decide to join in?” 

“I couldn’t let you go all Urban Cowboy by yourself, now, could I?” Natalie squeals when the bull spins and shudders, sending her weight into Dylan’s back. “I think I just flashed the entire bar, but oh well!” The girls move in unison, their motion almost choreographed; hands on legs, so much skin, hips undulating, breasts pressed forward, bodies rocking with the slow cadence of the bull.

“Seems like Miss Dylan has had a friend join her,” the DJ announces from somewhere Dylan can’t see or make out. “Let’s see what they do with this,” he teases, turning on music. Within seconds, Natalie recognizes it and laughs.

“Oh my God.”

_I'm just a bachelor_   
_I'm looking for a partner_   
_Someone who knows how to ride_   
_Without even falling off_

“Natalie, oh my God, is this ‘Pony’?” Dylan cackles, recognizing the song. The bull is moving slowly, the DJ queuing the bull’s moves with the beat of the music.

"Alright, well, it looks like these ladies have the hang of this. Anyone want to join them?" The DJ chuckles, sounding like a jackass. Alex shakes her head and heads to the bar. No _way_ is she getting involved in any of this mess.

The laughter dies in Dylan's throat when the guy - the one with _the hair_ \- approaches, a playful smirk on his face. "Scoot back," he says to Natalie, his hand on the bull between the girls. Dylan nods jerkily and Natalie obliges, scooting her butt back as far as she can on the bull without falling off the end. Tall, lanky _gorgeous_ guy kicks one leg over the bull and hops up, settling between the girls. With one hand reaching for Nat, he wraps one around Dylan's waist and scoots forward, closing the distance. "Hope this is okay, but I really wanted a ride."

_British._ Before Dylan can even process anything, the bull starts up again, this time 'Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy' queuing up in the background. The crowd around them goes crazy, Dylan knows she can hear Alex cheering over the rest of the other patrons, her distinct cheers louder than the rest.

The mechanical bull speeds up, everyone holding on for dear life. It shudders and bucks, tipping forward, all of their weight pressing into Dylan. 

Her eyes widen when she feels the hard length of the man sitting behind her, even more so when she feels Natalie squeeze her hips. 

The bull rears back and spins, and suddenly the fingers are gone, Natalie laughing and laying on the inflatable ground. "Don't let go," he instructs, his hands replacing Natalie's and holding tight. She nods, the DJ showing no mercy at this point. When it slows a bit, Dylan hitches a leg over and spins herself around, facing the man. 

"I'm Dylan," she introduces.

"Harry."

A few seconds more and they've fallen off, Dylan landing on top of Harry. "Sorry," she gasps, not really sorry at all.

"I'm not," he smiles. "Let me buy you a drink." He stands easily and pulls her to her feet, catching her when her balance propels her forward and into his chest. 

She's sweaty and almost shaking, her nerves on edge, not only from the unexpected exertion the bull caused, but from the sexual tension this Harry has brought out.

He's gorgeous.

She's in big trouble.

 

 

**1:00 am**

Alex elbows her way to the crowded bar after her friends' spectacular bull ride. The bar has a good crowd for a Friday night but it has thinned some, much to her delight. As she takes in the scene, she feels someone push up behind her.

"I need a pitcher!"

She spins around. "You need some patience," she scolds the man in black, unfazed by his muscles.

He looks at her and smirks. "I also need a partner. Come with me?"

Alex looks at him like he's crazy. "Are you crazy? A partner for what? I'm not dancing," she states emphatically.

The big man laughs. "I'm not either. I'm Paul."

"Alex. Still not dancing."

He shakes his head. "We have a game of beer pong going on and my partner went missing. Please?"

Alex leans back and takes him in. He's got some scruff, and that Irish accent is to die for. She's not sure where Natalie went, and last she saw, Dylan was sitting very close to the guy that rode the bull with them. Harry, she remembers. Paul has a hopeful expression on his face. 

"Please?"

When he sticks his bottom lip out, she acquiesces. "Fine. Just so you know, I don't like to lose."

Paul winks at her. "I don't play if I can't win."

When they walk through the bar to the beer pong table, Alex notices only one other player standing at the other end. "Where's his partner?" She sets her beer down on the nearest table and takes her position. 

Paul looks around. "Nialler, where's Bobbo?"

Niall grins and swigs his beer. "Mate," he chuckles, shaking his head. "Probably gettin' shut down right now. Found a hot blonde," he shrugs.

Alex watches the men amused. "So it looks like you need a partner, Blondie."

He laughs sharply. "Pauly's my partner. Where's yours?" Paul has the audacity to act chagrined and Alex laughs again.

"Go ahead and gang up on me. I can take you both," she says, squaring her hips and placing both hands on the table. "When I win, I think the two of you are gonna end up on the bull," she taunts, taking the pitcher from Paul and pouring the beer into her cups.

"It's on," Paul laughs, handing Alex the little white ball. "Ladies first."

 

 

**1:30 am**

"Here, let me." She hears the words and feels a hand pulling hers but Natalie can't look. Won't look. She's mortified, laying on the inflatable ground with her dress bunched up close to her hips.

When the hand pulls her easily into a sitting position she finally pries one eye open. "Bobby? Oh my god!" She lets him pull her to her feet and out of the way, and soon she's sitting in a booth next to him. 

"I can't believe we ran into each other," Natalie smiles, gratefully sipping the beer that's been placed in her hands. "I didn't get a chance to thank you for dinner."

"It was my pleasure," he says smoothly, a whisky in his hand. "That bull ride was thank you enough." The look he gives her, the silly leer and raised eyebrows, makes her dissolve into giggles. 

"Oh God, you saw that?" Her skin heats immediately and she takes another sip of her beer. The attempt to cool herself is thwarted when Bobby scoots _just a little bit_ closer, his leg pressed to hers, his arm sliding behind her and resting on the bench of the booth. 

He leans into her, and if she hadn't had as much to drink, she'd swear he just smelled her hair. "Yeah, I saw it." Natalie knows his voice has changed; it's lower and quieter than it was earlier at dinner. She looks up at him, his blue eyes also now a bit darker. When he runs a finger up her thigh, just under the hem of her dress, she shivers. "Glad to see those shots didn't have their intended effect." 

She giggles nervously. "Which ones?"

Bobby's index finger draws a little design on her thigh before sliding upwards, teasing the lace of her panties. Natalie swallows a gasp and says a quick prayer. _Jesus, please._ It's all she can think of before Bobby speaks again. "Your panties are still intact." That errant finger traces the elastic at the juncture of her legs and Natalie reminds herself to breathe.

"For now." She closes her eyes when she hears how shaky her voice is, how unsure she sounds. The silence stretches for seconds, hours, minutes, she's not sure. "Bobby, I'll be right back."

Natalie jumps up and walks briskly to the ladies room, a small single stall decorated (if you could call it that) with lipstick and Sharpie graffiti. She takes a few deep breaths and counts to 20, washing her hands in an attempt to distract herself. Her decision made, she returns to her table.

When she nears, she notices that Bobby isn't alone. _Shit._ She stalls, eyeing the cute, young blond man sitting across from Bobby and nearly gasps. It's like looking at twins. Fraternal twins, maybe, but relatives nonetheless. She smiles confidently and slides back into the seat next to Bobby. She turns toward him, leaning in close, brushing her body against his as he leans back. "Just so you know, maybe those shots worked after all." Her hand snakes out and tucks her thong into the front pocket of his jeans before she leans back and sits her ass down on the seat. "I'm Natalie. And you are?"

"Natalie, this is my son, Niall."

_Holy shit, **this** is his son?_ Natalie almost chokes, grabbing her beer and taking a healthy sip. 

"Had to come over here and check on the old man, you know?" Niall raises his bottle to his dad and the two men laugh identically. It's this big, hearty laugh and Natalie decides it's adorable. "And I see he's doing just fine," Niall says, watching as Bobby resumes his previous position of arm around Natalie and fingers dancing on her thigh. She squirms a bit under his touch, wanting him to stop...wanting him to keep going.

That bull ride did more than put on a show. It made her horny as hell. And right now, she's thinking this duo might just quench her thirst.

"Do you boys have a curfew?" Her Southern accent is stronger than normal and it has the intended effect. Bobby shifts in his seat, his fingers digging into her thigh a bit. She takes a moment to appreciate his rugged good looks, eyes traveling across his broad chest and down, her mind telling her not to focus on the noticeable bulge under his jeans. She eyes Niall equally as slow, his blue eyes an exact mirror of Bobby's- dark with a hint of mischief. She watches him swallow his beer, his Adam's apple bobbing and _Jesus_ , she's so turned on she wonders if she can come without being touched. Niall smirks as she continues to look her fill; he leans back to give her an unobstructed view.

The blush returns when she sees his shorts are tented.

"I think we're just getting started, don't you, Natalie?" Bobby leans in again, pressing against her side from arm to thigh. His breath warms her ear as he gets closer. "Why don't you come with us? You know, there's not many things I can provide for my son anymore, but I'm thinking tonight, there might be something I'd be willing to share with him."

 

**Group Message**   
**Alex: Nat, where r u going???**   
**Alex: Wait, isn't that the guy from dinner??**   
**Alex: AND WAIT, THATS MY BEER PONG BUDDY. HE'S SUPPOSED TO RIDE THE BULL! NAT WHERE R U GOING??**

**Natalie: Shh. 4 seasons. See u @ breakfast.**   
**Natalie: better make that brunch... ;)**

 

 

**2:00 am**

Dylan hears her phone vibrating on the table next to her, but she can't reach it. She twists and turns to no avail.

"What," Harry asks, looking up from between her legs, feeling Dylan squirm and hearing her hand pat the table. "Ignore it, whatever it is can wait," he growls. "I wanna hear you come." 

_The same words he said to her at the bar; the same words that propelled her to the cab that led them here, to Harry's hotel room; the same words that had her clothes strewn across the room in their hurry to this bed._

Harry flicks his tongue against her clit, bringing her out of her reverie, and Dylan nearly squeals, phone forgotten, her back arching and her hands digging back into his hair. Long fingers curl inside her, massaging _that spot_. Between the alcohol, the bull and Harry’s talented mouth, it doesn’t take long. Within minutes, her legs are shaking, and she’s whimpering through a release to her built up tension. 

Grinning up at her, Harry licks his fingers. Dylan raises up on her elbows, watching, feeling another familiar tingling already. “Why don’t you come up here, let me return the favor?” Harry stands and strips quickly, eagerly, bouncing her when he pounces back onto the bed. The jolt makes her head spin - or is it the sight of him naked? He’s tattooed, muscled perfection: long, lean, but hard. _God, so hard!_ Her mouth is actually watering.

Harry settles back, hands behind his head, that same Cheshire grin on his face. Dylan doesn't really know what to make of him - hooking up with a complete stranger is unusual for her - but right now, she doesn't really care. He's magnetic. 

She's determined to wipe the smile off his face. Returning his grin with a mischievous one of her own, she straddles him, plants her hands on his shoulders and grinds down, slowly sliding her dripping center along his length.

That's all it takes. His hips push up, and his grin is replaced with a sharply drawn breath and glazed eyes. Satisfied, Dylan moves down, silently giggling, until she's face to dick. _It's a pretty dick._ She almost snorts, her drunken giggles nearly getting the better of her. 

Wrapping a hand around the base, she licks the head, teasing him, eliciting a hiss, before taking him in as far as she can. Hand and mouth work together until his hand grips her head, and she hears Harry talking through gritted teeth. "Gonna come. _Fuck._ Wanna come inside you. _Uh._ Wait... Inside... Please...."

Dylan pulls off with a quiet pop, though her hand continues gliding up and down. "What's'at, darlin'?" she teases.

"I said," Harry reiterates more clearly, his raspy voice sounding strained. "I wanna fuck you. _Now._ "

Dylan crawls up his body, licking, nipping, and with her mouth at his ear, she murmurs, "How 'bout I fuck _you?_ I wanna ride you."

The grin is back. She decides she really likes that grin. “Only if you ride me like you did that bull.”

This time she can’t hold the laughter in. “Challenge accepted!” Dylan performs another glide over his length, watching Harry’s eyes squeeze shut, before reaching down to line him up and pushing back, filling herself. _“Fuck.”_ Now she’s the one hissing. _God_ , he’s so _long_. The hands gripping his shoulders clench, fingernails digging in, as she starts to move. 

Leaning forward, her long hair brushes over his chest as her hips roll, starting a slow grind, up and down, her clit pressing into his heated skin. His hands roam, tracing shoulders, collarbones, breasts. He pinches, rolls, stimulates her nipples, the hard peaks sensitive, sending a shock down to where they’re joined. Dylan moans, pants, speeding up, the sensations coursing through her igniting a fire. Harry’s hands continue to brush over her, stopping only when he has a firm grip on her ass. His hips start thrusting, lifting her. His fingers squeeze, guiding her, keeping her steady as he slams into her, hard and deep, over and over, until she breaks. The orgasm screams through her and she keens, seeing stars behind tightly closed eyes. Harry groans when she starts contracting around him, thrusting once, twice, three times more, before giving in to the pull. 

Dylan collapses on top of him, not even considering moving, as the orgasm fades. “I think I like riding you better than riding the bull,” she giggles sleepily.

 

**3:00 am**

"I don't normally do this."

"Neither do I."

"Can I just? I mean. I'll be back in a few, I guess?"

Their conversations are stilted; her legs are nearly trembling as they walk down the hallway on the eighth floor. Niall pulls Bobby aside, the men whispering in tones Natalie can't hear. Niall smiles at her as Bobby pulls her toward him, toward the open door to his room. She pauses to look at Niall, his fingertips brushing hers. "I promise, I'll be back in a little bit."

She nods and allows Bobby to pull her through the threshold, his room dark, lit only by lights somewhere near the water behind the hotel. The gravitational pull from the balcony is strong; Natalie walks towards them and pulls back the sheer curtain. "Beautiful," Bobby murmurs behind her, his hands resting on her hips. 

Natalie nods, allowing his body heat to warm her. 

"I wasn't talking about the view." He brushes her hair off her shoulder before placing a kiss on her neck. She tilts her head, allowing him access. Bobby's hands trace down her arms leaving goosebumps in their wake. She feels him trace her zipper under her hairline. "May I?"

"Yes," she whispers, overwhelmed. Bobby takes his time; Natalie swears she can make out each tooth of the zipper releasing as he lowers it down her spine. She shivers when his hands reach up to her shoulders underneath the fabric, lifting it off her skin and pushing it down, her dress pooling at her feet. His firm hands turn her around, Natalie clad only in her bra and heels. She tamps down any modesty she feels when she realizes Bobby's blue eyes are dark despite the moonlight. It's all Natalie can do to remind herself to breathe.

She steps forward, reaching for Bobby's sweater as he cups her jaw, pulling her in for a kiss. Despite all the teasing and innuendo all night, this is the first time she's felt his lips on hers and _Good Lord_ , the man can kiss. It's whisky, and tongue, and teeth, and soft fingers, and before she knows it, she's lifting the hem of his sweater, tossing it somewhere behind him. She peels off her bra while Bobby steps out of his shoes; within seconds, her fingers are undoing his jeans and pushing them down his thighs. "Jesus, Natalie," Bobby swears, palming his dick through his boxers before reaching for her again. "You've had me so hard all fucking night, starting from when you licked my fucking finger. I feel like I'm about to explode." 

"Let's see what we can do about that, then, hmm?" Natalie practically moans as she pushes Bobby with one finger in the direction of the bed, crawling on it in front of him, giving him quite the show. "Did watching me ride the bull with my friend turn you on?" She lays back into the pillows, legs spreading, fingers tracing her clit. "What about when I gave you my panties?" Her eyes widen when Bobby growls, tugging off his boxers, stroking his cock and kneeling on the bed.

"That's about enough of that," he chides, tweaking a nipple. "Let's see what you do with this," he challenges, lining himself up and pushing in. "Christ, you feel so good." He thrusts hard, filling her, Natalie's hips rising up to meet him. It's rough and fast and Natalie's not been this turned on in quite some time. When Bobby slows a bit to lean down to kiss her, she nearly comes apart. "Oh no," he tuts, his voice teasing now. "You can't come yet. I think you want to save that for a minute."

Natalie's eyes widen. "Bobby, please," she begs, her fingernails scratching paths down his back. "Please?" She sighs when he pulls out, her eyes fixated on his cock.

"Stand up, Natalie." She does as she's told, albeit with a whimper, legs wobbly in her platform heels.

"I fucking love those shoes." 

Natalie nearly collapses when she recognizes Niall's voice, her head whipping around in search of him. She's unprepared to find him in the hotel's monogrammed white bath robe, but totally prepared for the smirk on his face. "Niall," she croaks out, eyes flitting between father and son. "Bobby?" She starts to turn and Bobby moves in front of her, hand on her hip, stopping her. 

"Remember what I said earlier? There's not much I can give him?" Natalie nods as Bobby's low tone sends shivers through her again. "How about you give Niall a little ride like you did earlier," he says, training kisses over her collarbone. "Then, I'm going to let him make you come," he says with a smirk, sucking a nipple into her mouth and bringing it to a peak "I'm going to give you a minute."

She inhales sharply and nods, feeling Niall stand behind her, a hand steadying her on her hip. She turns to face Niall and is surprised to see the same dark blue eyes she saw earlier. "Hi," she whispers, trying to ignore any awkwardness. 

Niall grins. "Hey Natalie." God, that thick Irish brogue has her nearly trembling. "Come 'ere," he says, pulling her close, pressing his lips to hers softly. _Totally different from Bobby_ , she thinks. Where Bobby was hard and fast, Niall is so decidedly _not_. They kiss for hours, days, weeks, she's not sure; she just enjoys kissing him and doesn't want to stop. Their hands roam, hers under the ridiculous bathrobe, his across her heated skin, exploring each other, teasing, their mouths following suit. Natalie shoves the robe off of his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. Niall lays down on the bed and flicks his finger, beckoning her. 

"I think I owe you a ride," Natalie says, crawling up the bed, placing her lips on Niall's. She straddles his hips backwards, reaching for his cock and giving him a couple of pumps. He's a little bigger than Bobby, fatter; when she notices him leaking, she bends to lick his tip, smiling when she hears him groan.

"Fuck yes, Natalie." Niall's hips push up and she seats herself on him, letting his cock stretch her when he slides in. His hands grip her hips tightly, controlling her movements. She glances over her shoulders, one hand reaching to tweak his nipple. 

"Now babe, I'm supposed to be in charge here," she winks and Niall laughs, removing his hands and placing them behind his head.

"Fine. _Fuck._ Ride me."

Hips up, forward, down, back; the circular motion has Niall moaning and Natalie feels herself approaching the cliff. 

"Be a good girl, Natalie, and suck my cock." Her eyes fly open when she hears Bobby whisper in her ear, his hand stroking his cock in front of her. She has no idea where he came from or for how long he'd been standing there and she doesn't care as she takes his length into her mouth. Niall senses the change and starts to buck his hips up, his position shifting some as he reaches around to find her clit. It happens all at once- Natalie's legs shaking around Niall, her orgasm ripping through her, her walls clenching around Niall's cock, causing him to chase her over the proverbial cliff. When he groans and swears, Natalie moans and Bobby shoots into her mouth, a chain reaction she would never have predicted only some hours ago.

"Thank you, gorgeous," Bobby says, kissing her softly and turning on his heel to leave the room. On spent legs, she raises up and lifts one leg over Niall, turning so she can lay down next to him. 

"Hi," she giggles quietly, settling into the space created by his outstretched arm. "I'm, um..."

"Shh," he whispers. "Let's talk in a bit, yeah? Leave the awkward there, ok?"

She feels Niall's lips on her forehead and nods, eyes drifting shut.

 

**12:00 pm**

**Alex: I'll be there in, like, 5 minutes. Don't tell me you bitches are actually on time.**

**Natalie: Looking like something the cat drug in, but I'm here.**

**Dylan: I'm walking in now....**

"Coffee."

"Ditto."

Dylan eyes Natlie warily. It's unusual for Natalie to (a) show up in the same outfit from last night, no matter where they are and (b) for her to have her hair in a bun when she is anywhere other than the gym. "So."

"So," Natalie replies, eyes never quite meeting Dylan's. "We should wait for Alex."

Alex breezes in with a shit-eating grin on her face, sunglasses on and hair wild. "Did you two whores know they are in a fucking boy band?" She sits down, taking in both of her friends, and she laughs. "Oh my God, you two look like shit!"

Dylan and Natalie exchange a look. Dylan speaks first. "He told me. He said they were just here for the night, in between places."

Natalie nods. "Yeah, we talked about it." _Right before I fucked him again._ She takes a long sip of coffee. "I honestly had no idea."

Alex places her iPhone face up in the middle of the table, pressing the screen and making sure the volume is turned up.

_"Oh my GOD, y'all! That's Harry Styles on the bull! Can you see him? Oh my God, he's on there with two girls! That is sexual as fuck, y'all, I'm sorry. Oh, do you see Paul? Just standing there, letting him do it? *giggles* Holy shit, this is amazing. Who are they? How the fuck do you get to ride a bull with Harry?"_

Dylan hides her eyes as the grainy video plays, Natalie watching with a void expression. When it's over, Alex spins her phone back around with a grin splitting her face. "Ok, smart ass. How did you figure it out," Natalie asks, arching an eyebrow.

Alex laughs again. "You two left me with Paul, who is their tour manager. We went to a few more bars and then breakfast this morning, while he waited to hear from those guys. He told me a lot about them, basically so I wouldn't freak out and track y'all down. Do you know how dumb you both are? Going home with strangers?" Alex may have been laughing before, but she's not, now.

"Sorry," Dylan mumbles.

"No, you aren't. You just shagged Harry Styles," Alex chuckles in an awful British accent. "And you, missy," she spins, pointing at Natalie. "Did you seal the deal with the Irish?"

Natalie looks up, first at Dylan, then at Alex. "Something like that."

This time it's Alex and Dylan who exchange a look. "She's too quiet," Alex says with a teasing tone.

"Nat," Dylan says, reaching for her friend's hand. "You okay?"

Natalie nods. "I'm good." She pauses, brain reeling. "It was a hell of a night."

When brunch is ordered, stories roll out; Dylan talking about Harry and Natalie talking about Niall and Bobby (but really, mostly Niall, much to everyone's surprise). 

"So, what are we gonna do tonight?"

 

**6:00 pm**

**Unknown: check ur email x**

She jumps up, excusing herself to the ladies room, her phone tucked into her back pocket. Once she's safe inside the stall, she pulls it out, opening her Mail application.

**From: Niall {nialliscraic@gmail.com}**   
**Subject: October 30 - November 5**   
**1 Attachment**

**Nat,**

**I booked you a ticket. Get ready for Halloween in London. Can't wait to see you again. Bring your cowboy hat. :)**

**Ni x**


End file.
